


Pour Some Sugar On Me

by ficmuse



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bikers, Daddy Issues, F/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficmuse/pseuds/ficmuse
Summary: Fresh out of jail, FP Jones is trying to make the best of an impossible situation. Cheryl Blossom is caught in a downward spiral with no end in sight. A very dangerous liaison between them unearths just how deep corruption lies in Riverdale.Please note, Cheryl is 18 and FP is 40 in this fic.





	1. L'il Red Riding Hood

_Hey there Little Red Riding Hood_  
_You sure are lookin' good_  
_You're everything a big bad wolf would want_

_-The Meteors_

FP knew trouble when he saw it walk in. Cheryl Blossom, wearing a short red cloak and carrying a wicker basket, was definitely trouble. The crowd of bikers in the Whyte Wyrm all stopped in their tracks as the redhead walked through the bar.

FP walked over to her. “Well, hello there, little red riding hood. You must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t meet her eyes. “I just wanted to come and tell you how glad I am that you were released from jail. I understand that my family has caused yours an immense amount of grief. I’m the only Blossom left who can apologize for my family’s mistakes.”

“I know your father passed away,” said FP, “but isn’t your mother still around to take care of you?”

Cheryl met his eyes. “My mother blew her brains out this morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She licked her lips. “Can we continue this conversation in private?”

FP nodded. He put his hand on the small of her back and led her upstairs to his office.

It wasn’t much: a battered old desk; a black leather couch. An interior door led to his crash space. FP sat behind the desk and Cheryl stood in front of it. She took the red cloth off the top of the basket and began pulling cash out of it. Lots of cash.

“We always stashed some money in a fake panel in the family mausoleum. Daddy called it our insurance policy. I didn’t know what he meant by that; now I do.” She made stack after stack of bundled bills, all lined up nicely on the desk. “The DEA raided Thornhill, but they didn’t find this cash. It’s a thousand dollars for every day that you were in jail. It’s all I have to offer you, as recompense for my family's crimes.” She tilted her head. “That, and this.”

Cheryl moved back against the couch and untied the ribbons of her cloak. It dropped to the floor. She was totally naked, except for a pair of black silk stockings and a matching garter belt, with a towering pair of black stilettos on her feet.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” FP was pissed off. She was absolutely stunning and he hadn’t had a woman for a very long time. The situation felt like some kind of joke and he didn’t find it funny at all. “I’m old enough to be your father. You’re just a kid.”

She shook her head. “I’m a woman. I’m eighteen years old and I know what I want.” She lay down on the couch, leaned her head back against the arm, and closed her eyes. Her neck was long and pale. She let one knee fall back and FP saw all of her, from her ruby lips to her pink tipped breasts and down her long, long legs. A small triangle of flaming red hair between her thighs was framed by the outline of her garter belt. She was incredibly beautiful.

FP focused on his annoyance, not his hormones. “I don’t get my kicks raping little girls, honey.” He walked over to her, picked up her cloak and tossed it over her.

She sat up and glared at him. “You’re turning me down?”

“I like my women wet and willing, sweetheart. I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

“I’m a virgin.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve never let anyone make love to me before.”

“That’s not really a selling point for me.” He grinned. “I like a woman who knows what to do. I’m not really into fucking with training wheels on, kid.”

Cheryl stood up, tossing the cloak down on the couch. “You could show me what you like. You could teach me what to do.” She reached out her thumb and traced his bottom lip. He bit it and she squealed with surprise.

“I don’t really like being teased.”

“I’m not teasing.” Cheryl reached out and unfastened his belt. In one smooth motion, she pulled his long black leather belt through the loops of his jeans and dropped it onto the floor. She unzipped his fly, hooked her fingers into the elastic of his underwear and pulled them down.

He grabbed her wrist. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

The question was answered immediately. She knelt down and sucked him into her mouth, all of him. She knew what she was doing, that was damn sure, and within seconds all thoughts of wrong or right or anything at all were lost as this ethereally beautiful creature blew him expertly, with her other hand cupping his balls.

He twisted one hand in her silky hair and held it tight. She made a deep sound in her throat, sucked him harder and it was so good. It went on as long as FP could stand it, this gorgeous girl sucking cock like a pro while his hands twisted in her long, red hair.

“I’m going to come.”

She nodded, he flooded her mouth, and she sucked down every drop.

He pulled away from her and looked down at her face. Pink, excited, and aroused. She was turned on, too.

He picked her up around her waist and slammed her ass onto his desk, knocking over piles of cash. She gasped as he moved his hand between her legs. She was soaking wet. He leaned forward and kissed her as he pumped his fingers between her legs. She tasted sweet, like maple syrup. He felt her shaking underneath him, and moved his mouth to her neck as she came. She called out to God as she grabbed his shoulders, the material of his shirt bunching under her fingers.

He scooped her up and kicked open the door behind his desk that led to his inner sanctum. It was nothing more than a place to crash, a small bedroom mostly taken up by a king size bed, and a very humble bathroom.

He dumped her on the bed. “I want to fuck you now.” He stripped off his clothes, tossing them onto the floor.

She looked up at him and nodded.

“Tell me what you want. Say it out loud.”

“Take me. Please.”

That was good enough for him. He pulled a condom out of his bedside table and threw it on the pillow.

“You taste so sweet.” He kissed her, his tongue plumbing her mouth. "Touch me, baby."

She grabbed his cock with one hand, working him up and down.

He bit her neck and she gasped. “Pump me harder.” She did.

He took one of her nipples in his mouth and gently bit it. She gasped, her hand clenching around his cock. She liked pain; she liked it a lot. Her body was telling him everything he needed to know.

He fucked her again with his hand, until she came. He slid on the condom and slowly, inch-by-inch, he slid inside her.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked her.

“No.”

“Do you want me to?”

She didn’t answer.

“Talk to me and I’ll give you everything you want. Play games with me and I’ll stop.”

“You’re not hurting me.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. The silk of her stockings against his skin turned him on even more.

“Do you want it sweet or do you want it rough?” he asked.

“Sweet,” she said quietly. “Just this once.”

He made it sweet. He kissed her ear, and thrust gently. He used enough pressure to break her hymen, and her hands grasped his waist as he breached it. She cried out in pain.

“Want me to stop?” he asked.

“No.”

He kept going. Sex with her was liquid and calm and strangely contemplative, this lovely girl staring up into his eyes as he thrust into her body, over and over. It wasn’t even about getting off; this was something he’d never done before. He thought he’d seen it all, done it all. But this was new.

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. It was deep and soft and a caress, really, her mouth so sweet, so gentle under his.

It went on for such a long time, quiet breathing in a darkened room, gentle thrust after gentle thrust, until she gasped deeply and froze. FP could feel all of her inner muscles tighten and he watched her fall apart, watched her come for the first time, underneath a man. Underneath him.

It was a sexy thought. He’d given her something no one else had, done something for her no one else had ever done. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with orgasm, and she smiled.

He wrapped his arms around her tight and thrust, hard. She gasped as he moved strongly within her, eager to find his own pleasure now. Her breath hitched and he knew that she was coming along with him, that he was dragging her down with him.

“Come with me. Come.“

He bit her shoulder just before he lost control and they went down together, panting, as climax swept them both under.

Afterwards, he rolled off of her and threw the condom in the wastebasket. When he turned back to her, she was curled up in a ball, her head against her knees.

He ran one hand down her spine, his finger sliding slowly from bone to bone. She sighed and unclenched, just a bit.

He pressed a hot kiss on the back of her neck and she let go a little more. He kissed her shoulders, her back, reached around her body and cupped one of her breasts. He played with her nipple and it hardened under his touch.

He moved one hand over her hip and slid one finger inside her. She was still wet and she moaned when he touched her. He bit her earlobe, rolling the skin of her ear between his teeth.

“You want me again?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He fucked her with his fingers until she cried out his name, and then slipped on another condom and took her from behind.

He slid in and out of her quickly, his pace reflecting his rising desire. She was already crying out, making moans that fueled the fire inside him. He held her shoulders in his hands as he fucked her.

“Harder,” she whispered, barely perceptible.

He did. Her arm moved and he saw that she was touching herself, rubbing her own clit as he fucked her. He moved her hand aside and took over, rubbing her with his hand as his thick cock moved within her.

“It this good?” he asked. ”I want to make it good for you.”

“Hurt me,” she whispered. “I need it to hurt.”

He bit her, her shoulders, and the soft place on the back of her neck. She started to come, quivering under his fingers.

“I’m coming,” she said, her voice loud. “Fuck me harder, daddy.”

He bit her, hard, and she came with a scream. It was a very intense orgasm, her body twisting with the force of it. Whatever her motivation, she was into him. She liked being with him; she liked it a lot. He liked it, too.

“Come for me again.” He twisted her nipple and she gasped. “Fuck my cock, baby, scream for me.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re not getting out of this bed until you milk my cock dry.”

He pulled out of her and rolled her onto her back. She looked up at him, wide eyed, and he thrust back in.

“You like looking at me. Look at me. Look at who is fucking you.”

“Deeper.”

He grabbed her hip and pulled her in close. He thrust deeply. She gasped. “Tell me what you want,” he said.

“Bite me.”

He bit her shoulders, her neck, and her nipples. It was a deep bite on her breast that did it. She cried out again and tensed up. FP let go. He came again and it was sharper, so good it nearly hurt.

This time, she was satisfied. She was soft and pliant and fell asleep in his arms. She threw her leg over his waist and pulled him close, her head on his chest as she cried out in her sleep.

FP dozed off with her. Later, in the dark, he woke up. She was crying out, her body shaking. This girl had nightmares. He stroked her hair and kissed her gently as she calmed and fell asleep again. Even as she slept, fitfully, he wanted to take her again. He had been too long without a woman, too long since he’d had a woman in his bed that he wanted so much. This was how obsession began; desire, running out of control.

He slid his hand through her hair. Her hair was long and silky, so soft in his hands. This girl was a danger, to herself and others. He’d let his guard down, been taken by surprise. He couldn’t afford to do it again.

*******

When FP woke up, he was alone. He’d expected it. He was used to waking up alone.

He got dressed, although he couldn't find his shirt, and realized that his keys were missing. He went around to the desk and turned on the screen for the security monitors. He saw Cheryl on it, sneaking through the building barefoot, her long hair down, dressed only in his Harley Davidson t-shirt. What the fuck was she up to?

She opened the basement door. Fuck. She was down in the basement. FP  threw open the door to his office and hustled down the stairs.

Cheryl had used his keys to unlock a series of doors that were always locked. The doors to the heart of his operation were all hanging open.

FP fumed as he stalked through the hallway and down the stairs. Heads were going to fucking roll over this. He found Cheryl standing in front of the freezer, where her brother’s body had been dumped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” FP's voice was hard and mean and reflected his deep anger. He’d been played, like a fucking patsy. This little girl had fucked him and then fucked him over.

She was crying silently. He watched her as she slid her right hand across her left wrist. He saw a line of red spring up, scarlet against the pale white of her skin.

He threw himself at her, bending back her arm and shaking it until she cried out in pain. She dropped the razor blade she was holding and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

“You want to hurt? You want a little pain to make you feel alive?”

He reached out and slapped her ass, hard, with his hand fully spread open. “You want someone to punish you, to make you feel bad for being stronger than the rest of your family?”

He did it again and she gasped.

He hoisted her up on top of the freezer and spread her legs. He bent down and put his mouth on her. She gasped as he licked her. She was tight and closed and he felt ridges against his hands. She had scars on her thighs.

“What the hell?” FP pulled her thighs apart, trying to take a look at her.

“Stop. Don’t.” Cheryl struggled, but he was stronger than she was, by far. He saw what she’d been hiding: a series of horizontal scars on her inner thighs. Some of them were still scabbed over.

He ran his tongue across her scars. She gasped and grabbed a handful of his hair. He traced each one with the tip of his tongue. She sighed. He plunged his fingers into her and she was open and wet. He sucked and licked her until he heard her change in breathing and he looked up, just in time to watch her come. When she threw her head back, gasping, she turned a bright, rosy pink. She pulled his face up to hers and kissed him, her tongue flickering inside his mouth.

She had a slight smile on her face, as he picked her up and carried her back upstairs. She ran her hand over his jaw and looked up at him, her eyes dark and deep.

FP lay her down on the bed. He fucked her until they both came again. She had ignited something in him and as soon as they were done, he wanted her again. He took her over and over, all night long, with his tongue, his cock, his fingers, until she was soft and relaxed in his arms and she’d surrendered everything she had to him.

***

When FP woke up, the bright sunlight of day filled the bedroom. Cheryl was leaning against the headboard, eating an orange.  Her full lips sucked on a segment of fruit.  Her tongue flickered and she watched him while she ate. He wanted her again and she knew it. She smiled at him, a full real smile.

“Stop eyefucking me and tell me what you are up to.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not up to anything.”

“You just woke up one morning and decided that you wanted to fuck someone old enough to be your daddy?”

“You looked like you knew what to do.” She shrugged. “You threw Chuck Clayton around like he was nothing. You’re strong. You could pick me up with one hand.”

“I could.”

She took another orange segment and put it in his mouth. It was sweet and delicious against his tongue.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked her.

She looked over at him. “No.”

“I want you to start taking it.”

“Why?”

“I want to fuck you with nothing between us. I want to feel your pussy on my dick, not a damn rubber.”

“I’m not sticking around,” said Cheryl.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you.” He reached over and pulled her towards him. “And I’m not near done.”

She cupped him between his legs, running her fingers over the head of his cock. “I thought old guys needed a while to get excited,” said Cheryl. “Isn’t that what those Viagra commercials are all about?”

He laughed and bit her neck, hard. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch.”

“I’m not a little bitch.”

“You’re my little bitch.” He slid his hand down her belly and played with the curls between her legs. “I want to fuck you.”

“Now? I'm not done with my orange."

FP took it out of her hand and tossed it aside. He grabbed a condom and rolled it on. "Now.” He picked her up in his arms and pulled her down on top of him. Slowly, he slid inside her. “Take my cock."

She gasped and held onto his shoulders. “God. That's so deep.”

He thrust up, into her, over and over. “Tell me what you want,” he hissed. “Tell me why you’re playing this game with me.”

“Fuck me,” she said, her voice breaking. "It’s so good. I like it so much.”

“You like the way I make you come?”

“I like the way I feel with you inside me,” she said.

“I like it too. I like it a lot.” He liked it too much. All he wanted to do was fuck her, over and over. Nothing else seemed to matter. He was lost in a haze of lust.

She came, and he pulled her mouth to his as she screamed for him. He came, and she held him tight.  He panted, gasping. 

They lay together after he discarded the condom. “You satisfied yet? Or do you want more?” FP ran his hand through her hair, playing with the thick strands.

“I want you more.” Cheryl grabbed his shoulder and pulled him towards her, then put her hand on the back of his neck and guided his face between her legs.

He’d never had a woman tell him so blatantly that she wanted him. It was an adrenaline rush, an ego boost. It was like a hit of coke. Sheer pleasure.

He buried his face between her legs and made her come. She liked him to suck her clit hard while he fucked her with his fingers. But he made her totally fall apart when he fucked her deep with his fingers banging into her G-spot over and over while he barely licked her clit. That drove her out of her mind.

Afterwards, they were both drenched with sweat, reeking of down and dirty fucking. FP picked her up and carried her into his bathroom. He turned on the water and pulled her into the shower with him.

They were crammed together in the small shower and the spray covered them with warm water. Cheryl closed her eyes and turned her face upwards under the water. The traces of makeup washed away, leaving her pale and white and young, so young. He’d spent the night fucking a girl who was barely a woman. Once again, he felt shame.

She looked up at him. “I want to die. I do. But when you touch me, it makes me feel something.”

He ran his thumb over the thin scab of the razor blade cut on her wrist. “I don’t have anything to offer you, baby. I’m just a broken old mess of a man.”

“I’m a broken mess too.” She pressed herself against him and lifted herself up on her toes. She pulled his neck down so she could kiss his lips. “You make me feel whole.“

“It’s just fucking, honey. Nothing special at all.” FP took the bottle of shampoo and poured out a handful. Gently, he massaged it into her long hair. It was tangled from all the rough sex and he gently spread the strands apart with his fingers, not wanting to hurt her.

Cheryl picked up the bar of soap and wet it. She ran it over his body, soaping up his shoulders, his chest. The suds thickened and she lathered his public hair. It felt good, and his arousal stirred.

“You’re going to make me hard again.”

She smiled and stroked him with her hand.

“You like touching me, don't you?" he asked.

“It makes me feel powerful," she said in a quiet voice. "You're so big and strong but I can make you want me."

“You certainly do. Now that you’ve got me all hot and bothered, what do you want to do?”

What she wanted was to have him fuck her with his hand while she jerked him off. He gasped and came all over her pale, white stomach, just as she came all over his hand.

He pulled her close and kissed her. “The idea was to clean us up, not start over.”

“I don’t want you to stop touching me.” She guided his hands to her breasts and he cupped them in his fingers.

“We can’t do this all day. At a certain point, you’re going to be sore and raw and I’m going to be too tired to fuck you any more," FP said.

“Then fuck me as much as you can.” She smiled up at him.

He smiled back. “You're really an insatiable little thing, aren't you?”

She put her arms around his neck and lay her cheek against his shoulder. He heard her let out a long, gentle sigh. She was so soft and light in his arms. He held her close with one arm; with the other, he stroked her hair, over and over.

“I like making love with you,” she said quietly. “When you hold me, all the chaos in my head quiets for a while.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Good.”

"I know it can't last, but I'll take it while I can."

He carried her back to the bed and she pulled him into her arms. Her kisses were so delicate, so sweet. "I wish we had more time," she said softly.

"We have all the time you want, baby."

But she just shook her head and kissed him, more deeply this time.

*****

When FP woke up again, it was noon. He was alone and he had no idea where Cheryl had gone. This crazy girl had spent one night in his bed and in the harsh light of day, it was all just like a dream. But he could still smell her on his sheets. On his desk, ninety thousand dollars was laid out in cold, hard cash. On his couch, a red cloak was discarded, red as blood against the black leather.

FP should let it rest. He was living in a house of cards. There were so many ways this thing with Cheryl Blossom was wrong. It would be best if he just chalked this up as another one night stand. Not the first; not the last.

But he thought of that sigh, when he held Cheryl close in his arms. That blank look on her face as she ran the razor across her wrist. This was a girl who wanted to die. If he let her slip through his fingers, there would be no one else to catch her.

Little red riding hood, lost in the woods. Where would she go?

He drove through town, looking for that telltale gleam of hair. He saw Jughead and Betty walking into Pop’s, hand in hand, both laughing. A glimpse of red hair turned out to be Archie Andrews, walking alone in his varsity jacket.

Where was Cheryl Blossom?

The kids had pulled her out of the river, before she burned down her house. With a heavy heart, FP went walking along the bank of the Sweetwater River. That’s when he saw them: footprints in the snow. Small footprints. He followed them as they became suffused with pink, and then bright red. He followed the bloody footprints until he reached the cemetery of Thornhill. Behind the cemetery, the burned ruins of the house loomed.

Cheryl was fast asleep on her brother’s grave. Asleep? He reached down and checked her pulse. She was alive; but nearly frozen in the snow.

FP stripped off his shirt and wrapped her bloody feet in it. He folded his heavy coat around her, covering her. Half naked now, he ignored the bitter cold and walked back to his truck. He held Cheryl close, her cascade of vivid hair covering his bare chest.

This girl needed a reason to live. He was going to give her one. It was too late to turn back now. And, if he was honest, he didn’t want to.


	2. Bring Me to Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who have embraced this story with open arms.

_Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up_

_Bid my blood to run, I can't wake up_

_Before I come undone, save me_

_Save me from the nothing I've become_

_-Evanescence_

Cheryl watched as the snow fell. When it hit her skin, she couldn’t even feel it any more. How long does it take for the brain to die? They hadn’t discussed that in biology class. How long did it take to freeze to death? Her body had stopped shivering. She was as light as a cloud, as warm as a mug of coffee. It was time to slip away.

Her brain was still talking. For weeks now it had been racing, screaming at her over and over. But now, as her life wound down, her thoughts were calm.  A kind voice was there, a caring voice inside her head that she hadn’t heard since Jason died.

_You need to wake up. This isn’t where you want your life to end. You’ll never prove your parents wrong. You'll never see Paris. You'll never fall in love._

Cheryl had lived half a life for so long and she'd tried, as the seasons turned, to live. To find some connection, some meaning in what she saw around her. Nothing seemed real. Nothing would last. Every time she’d reached out, she’d been rejected. No one really cared.

Before her mind stopped talking, she thought about FP. He’d been so good to her. He’d held her in his arms and it had been so sweet. If things were different...

The world faded away. Whatever was now or ever had been, none of it mattered any more. She was gone.

*****

Cheryl woke up in a world of pain. She was screaming. Someone was holding her down and hurting her and she struggled.

“Baby girl. Baby!” She opened her eyes and saw FP looking down at her. “Stop fighting me! Stop. We’re trying to help you.”

She looked down. She was on a metal exam table. FP had hold of both of her wrists, holding her down. There was a doctor at the end of the table, stitching up her feet. He was an older guy with silver hair and a full beard, wearing a white lab coat.

“What happened to me?”

“You tried to kill yourself again,” said FP. “I found you half frozen to death. You have pneumonia. You have frostbite. You cut the shit out of both your feet and you need stitches.”

“I can feel the needle going into my foot." Tears leaked out of her eyes and her voice broke.

FP whirled around, his voice dark. “Give her another fucking shot in her foot, doc. Right now.”

The doctor nodded. There was a pinch in her skin and then, seconds later, a blessed numbness.

“Is that better?” FP let go of her left wrist and smoothed her hair away from her forehead.

Cheryl still felt so disconnected from the world. She closed her eyes, trying to sink back into oblivion.

“No, don’t go back to sleep. Look at me. Look at me!”

Cheryl opened her eyes and looked into FP's face.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” he whispered. “I don’t like being scared. Not at all.”

Cheryl wanted to soothe him; he looked worried and upset. She reached out and brought his face to hers.

He kissed her, sweet and gentle and then hard. “I’m so fucking pissed off at you right now.” He sighed. “What the fuck am I going to do with you?”

When the doctor was done stitching up her feet, he discarded the bloody gauze and the large cotton pad and set aside the metal bowl of surgical implements. Carefully and gently, he bundled up both of her feet in layers of gauze.

After he washed his hands at the sink, the doctor came over to Cheryl’s side and looked down at her. “My name is Jacobs. I’m the medic for the Serpents. You’re at my clinic down in the South Side.” He looked over at FP. “I need to ask you a few questions, Cherry. Boss, you know I’m loyal but I have a conscience.”

“Do what you need to do, doc. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You should be in a psych ward, young lady,” Jacobs said flatly. “You are obviously a threat to yourself. You should be on suicide watch until you stop trying to harm yourself. You can check yourself in voluntarily and I recommend that. As a physician, that is what I advise you to do.”

Cheryl licked her lips. “I spent seventy-two hours at Golden Oaks after my house burned down. I took the meds that I was supposed to. I said what they wanted to hear. They let me go.”

“If you keep going down this road, you’ll die. One day there won’t be anyone around to stop you.”

“That’s fine.” Cheryl met his eyes, unwavering. “Thank you for your concern.”

Jacobs looked over at FP. “Are you clear on this situation?”

“Crystal. Thank you, Jacobs. You can go.”

The doctor nodded and left the room.

FP sat on the exam table next to Cheryl. He stretched out his hand next to hers, but didn’t touch it. His thumb stroked the sheet that covered the table, over and over.

“This should probably wait until you’re not in pain, not so fucked up, but it can’t wait.” FP looked into her eyes. “You need to make a decision, right now. You can go back to the North Side or stay here with me. You can't do both.”

“No one cares what happens to me. I don’t have anywhere to go.”

FP shook his head. “Not true. One phone call and Betty Cooper will be down here with her mama in tow. You’ll be tucked up in bed in that big white house, with Alice pumping you for information and Betty trying to fix what’s wrong with you. That world is where you belong. Anyone with a lick of sense can see that. It’s not going to take a whole lot to find you a place in it.”

“I’m not part of that world any more. I don’t have any reason to stay,” said Cheryl. “I have no friends. I got kicked out of school; my presence was a distraction. The mayor signed off on my diploma five months early.” She shrugged. “I have lost everything. Every single person that I loved is gone. My home is gone.”

“You might have wanted to consider that before you burned it down,” FP said. “Just saying.”

Cheryl laughed. “Well, I had my reasons.”

FP grinned at her. “We all have our reasons for the stupid shit we do.” He took her hand in his and ran his thumb across her fingers. “Look, I understand what it feels like, that the world wants you gone. But you’re eighteen and beautiful and smart as hell. This world was made for people like you to wring everything they can out of it. Why don’t you get the fuck out of Riverdale and don’t look back? You must have had plans, before all this shit went down.”

“None of it matters any more. I just don’t care,” Cheryl said softly. “I’m not interested in anything. I don’t care about anything. All I want to do is go to sleep and never wake up.”

He looked into her eyes and Cheryl knew he understood that she meant it. “Then I should take you back to Golden Oaks. You need people who can help you. You need someone who can fix you.”

“I don’t want to be fixed,” said Cheryl. “I just want to leave this world and be with Jason.”

FP looked at her for a long moment. His jaw was set, his face hard. “Okay. Let’s lay it all out, then. You don’t care about your life any more? You want to throw it away? Well, it’s mine now. It’s not yours any more; it belongs to me. Everything you have is mine, from your red hair down to your frostbitten toes. If you need punishment, I'll give it to you. If you need pleasure, you'll have it. You hurt yourself again, you answer to me.”

FP put one hand on her neck and put pressure on it. She looked into his eyes and saw how incredibly angry he was, at what she’d tried to do. Cheryl knew, in that moment, that if he wanted to, he could crush her windpipe. She’d be dead, without a sound. The power was in his hands.

“You cross me, I'll make you sorry you did. I expect absolute loyalty. You either put yourself entirely in my hands or I drop you off on Alice Cooper’s doorstep. You tell me right now which way this is going to go, babygirl.”

The temptation to just fade into nothing was so strong. It was hard to even think about anything else.

“Why do you care what happens to me?” she asked.

“Maybe I just want to keep you for myself.” He leaned forward and kissed her, biting her lower lip. “I’ve been getting my kicks for a long, long time and I’ve never been with anyone who made my blood burn and my heart beat fast the way you do.”

“You make me feel that way too.”

“I know I do. I think you were made just for me.” He kissed her gently, and then deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss further. She wanted him. All of her memories of how good he had made her feel, how good it felt to have him inside her, filled her mind.

He pulled away, breathing hard. “That’s not nothing, Cheryl. Believe me, this heat between us, that is something special.” He held her hand. “So, you’re mine. You belong to me now.”

“Fine. I'm in your hands, now. But you belong to me, too.”

“Only fair.” He kissed her neck. “No one in this town will fuck with you or they’ll answer to me. Stick to the South Side; the people down here know how to keep their mouths shut. Welcome to the rest of your life, Cherry.”

FP filled his coat pockets with some prescription bottles. He wrapped several warm blankets around Cheryl and picked her up in his arms. He carried her down the hallway to the back exit. He kicked the door open and he walked into the alley where his truck was waiting.

*****

Back at the Whyte Wyrm, FP laid Cheryl on the couch in his office. She watched him through the open door as he made up the bed. He pulled new bedding out of plastic bags, ripping off tags and tossing them aside. There were clean white sheets and a puffy white comforter. He unwrapped new pillows from plastic and shoved them inside the cases. When everything was clean and fresh, he picked her up and carried her into the room and set her onto the bed.

“Are you in pain? How are your feet?” he asked.

“They are starting to hurt.”

“Best to get ahead of the pain.” FP popped the lid off a prescription bottle on the bedside table. He handed her one white pill and a coffee mug filled with water. She took the pill and settled into the pillows.

He sat down next to her. “I don’t know what you need. Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

“Everything I own is in the trunk of my car; big red convertible. I left the keys in the ignition when I parked it out back of the bar yesterday. It’s probably long gone.”

“The '61 Impala? My man Rex brought the keys in. Anyone stupid enough to steal a car from the Whyte Wyrm parking lot wouldn’t last long on the South Side.” He smiled. “I’ll get your stuff.” A few minutes later, he brought in a duffel bag and her purse and set them in the corner of the room.

FP took off his pants and his shirt and slid into the bed next to her. He stroked her hair. “You should get some rest now. Get some sleep. Once you are feeling better I’m going to be keeping you pretty busy.”

She reached out and ran her hand over his chest. “I’m not tired.”

“You have frostbite and pneumonia and brand new stitches in your feet. I’m not an animal, Cherry. I’m not fucking you until you’re strong enough to take it.” He twined his fingers in her hair.

“You like calling me Cherry.”

“That’s who you are now.” He tilted his head and looked at her. “I know a lot about living different lives. You just left one behind. Cheryl Blossom had a lot of problems. My sweet Cherry baby, she doesn’t have a care in the world. Not while I’m here.”

FP leaned forward and kissed her. His desire was clear, but carefully reined in. He gave her just enough to make her want a lot more. He broke the kiss and moved his mouth to her neck. He bit her hard, with one hand pinching her nipple. She cried out when he took her skin beneath his teeth and sucked hard enough to bruise. “That’ll leave a mark,” he said with satisfaction. “You’re mine, now. You listen to what I say. You rest up now.”

“Can you hold me until I fall asleep?”

He folded himself around her. She was completely cocooned in his strong arms. One of his legs wrapped over hers. He kissed the back of her neck until her muscles unclenched and the tension left her body. He was whispering in her ear, so quietly that she couldn’t make out what he was saying, as she sank into sleep.

When she woke up, the room was dark. She was confused at first until she realized he was between her thighs, sucking and licking. She came with a gasp, clawing his shoulders. She felt him chuckle and then he started it all again. He fucked her hard with his tongue, and it was unbearably good.

“Fuck me, daddy. God. Please take me.” She was out of her mind with desire, begging.

He rose up over her. “I need you so bad. I can’t stop touching you.” She heard the rip of the condom wrapper and seconds later he parted her thighs and slid inside her. “I’m trying to be gentle. I’m trying not to hurt you.”

Her bandaged feet slid against the sheets as she tried to move under him, to get more of him. “Nothing hurts. Please, oh please.”

He let out a long, stuttering breath and increased the pace. He was gripping her hips in his hands. “Say my name. Baby. Talk to me.”

“Take me, daddy. I’m yours.”

“Baby girl.”

He was so strong and he was so big. He was overwhelming, looming over her, his hard cock filling her. It was unbearable. She couldn’t take it any more.“I’m coming. Oh God.” He bit her, sucking hard on her neck where he’d left a hickey before. It hurt and it sharpened everything. She was acutely aware of the power of her orgasm, his sweat on her skin, the musky smell of their bodies moving together.

Afterwards, he held her close. “Are you hurting? You shouldn’t take another pain pill until morning.”

“I’m fine.” Her face was pressed against his chest. He closed his arms around her more tightly.

“I know that you’re far from fine. But none of that shit matters any more. Tomorrow, you’ll meet everyone in the club. You’ve got a place here now. I think you need a distraction and I have a hell of a lot to distract you with.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Just don’t give in to your sadness. You need someone to talk to, you can tell me anything. I’ll keep all your secrets.”

“What about yours?” she asked. “Who do you tell your secrets to?”

“Nobody cares about my secrets.”

“I care.” She looked up at him and she saw his lips curl into a smile.

“Well, don’t care too much, Cherry. There’s something you need to understand. I’m laying it all out, right now, and I mean what I say. I can give you a lot. I can be someone to protect you, to look after you. I’ll make love to you and I’ll be faithful to you. But I don’t have a heart of gold. I’m not going to ever become something better than what I am now. Everyone who has ever loved me has walked away the worse for it. So, don’t make more out of this than what I can give you.”

“I’m not asking for anything.”

“Well, you should. You deserve better than what you got. You got a raw deal in your life, so far. God knows, you deserve a better man than me. But you got more than you bargained for when you slid off that cloak. You got yourself a big, bad wolf. I’m not going to let you go without a fight.” He rubbed her back. “You rest now, baby. I’ve got you now. You don’t need to worry about a thing any more.”

Something deep inside Cheryl relaxed. She felt FP kiss her gently on the lips. Tomorrow, she would see what his world looked like. An unfamiliar emotion unfurled within her: curiosity. Anticipation. She was looking forward to tomorrow, and it had been a long time since that was true. Soon, she was asleep.


	3. I'm On Fire

_Hey, little girl, is your daddy home?_

_Did he go and leave you all alone?_

_I got a bad desire_

_Oh-oh-oh, I'm on fire_

_-Bruce Springsteen_

FP woke up at six o’clock in the morning on the dot. He rolled over in bed and Cheryl was still fast asleep. That was good; she needed the rest. He moved the sheet aside and looked down at her gauze wrapped feet. There were patches of blood that had leaked through the bandages.

FP took a quick shower and got dressed. He tried to be quiet and not disturb Cheryl. He pressed a kiss to her forehead but she didn’t stir. If she were in pain, she’d wake up. As soon as she did, he could give her another pain pill. He texted the club medic, Jacobs, and told him to be here at eleven to take a look at his girl and make sure she was okay.

There was a lot of Serpent business to take care of. He sat down at his desk in his office and got to work. While he’d been in jail, his organization had run like clockwork. His officers were trusted for a reason. Nonetheless, it was better for everyone involved if there was absolutely no confusion about who was in charge.

There was a major problem, though: FP had to make Cheryl a priority at the moment. His girl was fucked up, mentally and physically. She was depressed and injured and he needed to take care of her; more importantly, he wanted to be there for her. He didn’t trust her enough to leave her alone; he was still tense, waiting to see the slightest hint that she was planning another way to off herself. Not on his fucking watch.

So, the Serpents would need to continue on with FP’s officers running more than usual for a little while longer. However, FP would be calling all the shots and he was back in his office, right where he should be. He sorted out the duty roster himself and made some calls for things that didn’t sit right with him. He wanted to make it very clear that the Serpents were entirely under his thumb once again.

FP placed another call and woke up Rex, his right hand man. He had a laundry list of errands he expected Rex to take care of. He’d looked through Cheryl’s bag; she had maybe two days worth of clothes. He gave Rex her sizes and told him to have his girlfriend go shopping and get several week’s worth of clothes, in red and black. Cheryl needed a heavy coat, a hat and gloves; spring wasn’t even close to coming yet. His medic, Jacobs, had said that Cherry would need to stay off her feet for three weeks; with that in mind, he asked Rex to bring a wheelchair to the bar, ASAP.

He thought about what Cheryl Blossom had done and what she had told him. When he’d taken her stuff out of the trunk of her car the night before, he’d found her computer. He’d found two phones in her purse, too; one seemed to be her mother’s and the other was hers. He’d handed all of it off to one of his guys to take to Mac, his tech guy. Cheryl’s generation, every move they made was on their phones and their computers. He intended to get every scrap of information he could to figure out the chain of events that led Cheryl Blossom, the spoiled princess of Thornhill, to become Cherry, the latest lover of the head of the Serpents.

He made a list on a legal pad of things to look into. He wanted to know who from the DEA had spoken to her and her mother; he wanted to see the autopsy reports for her parents; he wanted to know what the hell had happened to her grandmother. Last he knew, Rose Blossom had been alive. Had Cheryl inherited the estate? Was there anything to inherit, after the DEA had seized everything? Cheryl had brought him a secret stash of cash from Thornhill; as soon as she could walk around, he wanted to take her up to Thornhill and see what else they could uncover or recover from the estate.

FP wanted to know more about the fire. He made notes: for someone to look into the insurance angle; if the arson investigation was open or closed; if they had any proof of what caused the fire. He wanted a copy of Cheryl’s school file, too. He wanted to trust her, but a long time ago he’d learned his lesson: trust, but verify. He wouldn’t get burned again. The last things on his Cherry related list were to call Miss Mona and make an appointment for a jacket fitting and get Locke down at the garage to start looking for a cherry red Harley. He made those calls, too.

The next big fucking problem was Jughead. FP sighed, torn. His men had looked after the kid while he was locked up. He was grateful for their loyalty; however, he’d never imagined that Jug would actually want to become part of the Serpents. All in all, Jughead had spent three months in the club before FP got out of jail.

FP had met Jughead at the trailer as soon as he was released. Their reunion had started out great; the kid was all smiles and his little girlfriend Betty Cooper had even baked a cake. But within twenty minutes, FP and his son were yelling at each other. Jug didn’t want to stop wearing the club colors; he wanted to be a full member of the Serpents, permanently. The officers of the Serpents had shown the kid just enough of their world to give him a taste for it. The problem was that FP had promised himself a long, long time ago that his son would never be part of this life.

Jughead was just as stubborn as his old man and had been furiously angry at being asked to give up his jacket. He’d stormed out, Serpent jacket still on, and now they weren’t talking once again. Every time FP took one step forward with his kid, he found himself two steps back. FP had left three voicemails; when Jug was ready to talk, he would.

The fact that Jug had stormed out and refused to listen to reason only reinforced the notion that he had no business being a Serpent. No one in the organization gave the boss lip or they would get the beat down of a lifetime. FP had learned that lesson at just about Jug’s age. His dad, Senior, had been the boss of the Serpents back then. FP had been trying to build himself up with the older Serpents, to look cooler than he really was. Senior had kicked his ass in front of the whole crew for mouthing off. FP had never viewed his father as a role model. He’d never raised a hand to his own kid. He didn’t particularly want to start now.

FP wanted someone to blame for this bullshit situation with Jughead. He was happy to put the blame on his ex-wife. If Gladys had just let the kid come stay with her in Ohio, the Serpents would never have stepped in. Even worse, she’d let their son get sucked into the foster care system, knowing that FP was in no position to do a damn thing about it. The kid was happy living in his foster home and loved his classes at South Side High. But he never should have had to leave Fred’s house, or his friends at Riverdale High, in the first place.  

The first thing FP did, as a free man, was sign the paperwork that finalized his divorce. He’d dragged his feet on it for months, still hoping to convince Gladys to come home with JB or reunite in Ohio. Now he was done with her. His marriage had been dead for years. It was past time, way past, to put a nail in that coffin.

Nothing with his kids had worked out the way he would have liked. FP hadn’t even seen Jellybean in two years. According to their custody agreement, she was supposed to come stay with him for the summer and over her winter break. Cold comfort when all of that was so far away, but it was something to look forward to.

Dwelling over Gladys and JB and Jug was a waste of time. His AA meetings, although very preachy for his taste, had provided some things that stuck in his head. There was a bit in one of their prayers about accepting the things you can’t change, changing the things you can, and having the wisdom to know the difference. It was time to tackle the shit he actually did have control over.

FP notified his officers that he was calling in every single Serpent for a club wide meeting. At noon, they’d all need to be at the bar or there would be hell to pay. After a moment of hesitation, he sent Jughead a text asking him to be there. He certainly wouldn’t be the only Serpent skipping out of class to make their way down to the Whyte Wyrm.

“FP?” He turned to look through the open door into the bedroom. Cherry was sitting up against the headboard, rubbing her eyes.

He went back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

FP sat down next to her on the bed and kissed her. “You were really restless again last night. You have a lot of nightmares.”

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since my brother died.” She looked tired and drawn. “I don’t feel well. My feet are killing me.”

“Let me get your medicine.” FP brought her a mug of water and handed her the pills. She swallowed them and handed the empty mug back to him.

“The doc will be here to look at you in a couple of hours,” said FP. “You’re not supposed to put any weight on your feet. I’m going to carry you to the bathroom so you can get yourself cleaned up.”

“How long am I supposed to be off my feet?” Cheryl asked. “I don’t remember.”

“The stitches come out in three weeks,” said FP. “Until then, you can’t walk at all. Your wheelchair will be here soon.”

“This sucks,” she complained.

FP scooped up Cheryl in his arms. She was totally naked, save for her bandaged feet. “Well, you should have thought of that before you went off half cocked and acted like an idiot.”

She glared up at him. “Fuck you, FP.”

He plunked her down in the bathroom on top of the toilet.

“This is really embarrassing,” said Cheryl. “I’m sure I can get around without hurting myself.”

“There’s no way for you to get around without using your feet. You’ll rip your stitches open. Don’t be stupid."

She looked over at the shower stall. “There’s no way for me to take a shower unless you hold me up.”

He shook his head. “You can’t get your bandages wet. We’ll stay someplace else tonight where there’s a bathtub. That’ll be easier for us to deal with.”

He held her up and propped her against the sink as she washed off her chest, her armpits, and whatever else she could reach. She was annoyed and she complained. FP ignored her.

He left her alone to use the toilet and came back in with her duffel bag. She pulled out a handful of clothes from the bag and he helped her get dressed. He pulled on her panties and her little black mini skirt. She fastened a black lace bra over her breasts and pulled on a red t-shirt.

He handed her toiletries from her bag and watched her as she sprayed a big can of stuff over her long red hair and combed it out.

“Is that hairspray?” FP asked.

“It’s dry shampoo. You use it between washes to keep your hair smelling nice.”

He leaned forward and smelled her hair. “You smell like roses.” FP ran his fingers through her hair. He loved it; it was so long and silky and such a deep red color. He’d never thought hair was a turn on, but he did now. “Do you want me to braid your hair for you?” he offered.

“You know how to braid hair?”

“I do. I think you’d look nice with it braided.”

So, FP carried Cheryl to the bedroom, sat behind her on the bed and brushed out her hair. He separated it into sections and twisted her hair into a long fishtail braid. When he was done, she handed him a hair tie and he tied it off.

He ran his fingers along the braid. It was long enough to wrap around his hand several times. He liked the look of it. He moved his hand aside, revealing her neck. He kissed her gently as he tugged on her braid.

She let out a long gasp. He moved his other hand around her and flipped up her skirt. He licked and sucked her neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. In no time at all, he made her come. She leaned back against him, her body relaxing fully against his.

FP let go of her braid and sucked his fingers into his mouth. He could taste the salty sweetness of her pussy on his skin. He was hard and he wanted her. But he’d already taken her once this morning, in the early hours before dawn, and used up the last condom he had. He kept promising himself that he’d leave her alone until he got more, but he couldn’t stop touching her. He couldn’t fuck her right now, not without doing something incredibly stupid.

She sprawled across his lap and looked up at him. “You’re so good to me.”

He pulled up her shirt and ran his hand across her smooth stomach. “You’re so beautiful, baby girl.”

“Then show me how much you want me.” Her eyes were dark with desire; she wanted him bad.

“I think I’ve shown you that already.” He slapped her ass. “We’ve got places to go, things to do.”

“But I want you,” she said.

“We’re out of condoms and we need to eat some food.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.

“I’m not even hungry.”

“Well, I am. Man cannot live on sex alone.” In his office, he threw on his Serpents jacket and wrapped her up in a thick blanket. He checked his phone. Rex had texted him: he would be there within the hour with the wheelchair. He slipped the phone in his jacket pocket.

“First we will have food, then I want to show you something, then the doc is coming to look at you, and then I have to meet the club at the bar. When all that is done, if the doc says your feet are doing okay, I’ll fuck you as much as you want.”

He scooped her up in his arms. She was so slender and small, she wasn't heavy at all.

She kissed his neck. “Promise me."

“I’m a man of my word, Cherry baby.”

FP carried her through the bar and out the front door. He nodded at his guys that were working security: one at the door, one on perimeter. He walked down the street, passing a convenience store and a bakery and an old maple syrup warehouse. It was fucking freezing outside. Around the corner was their destination.

It was a small building, plastered in white stucco that had seen better days. A large sign out front stated that the restaurant was called The Country Kitchen. FP walked up the stairs and used his foot to kick open the heavy plate glass door.

Along the far wall was a long brown Formica counter with brown wooden stools. The daily specials were listed on a whiteboard propped on the counter. The walls were covered with dark brown wood paneling.

Along the wall of windows in the front and in the middle of the room were wooden tables for four, all battered from years of use. The restaurant was decorated with plaid and roosters. Plaid curtains, roosters, or some combination thereof were everywhere.

At the center table in front of the windows, FP slid out a chair for Cheryl. He unwrapped her from the blanket and set it on the chair next to her. Once she was situated he sat across from her at the table.

The waitress came over. “Morning, FP.”

“Morning, Donna. Can I have a menu for my girl Cherry here?”

The waitress, a blonde in her twenties with warm brown eyes and streaked blonde hair, looked at Cheryl in surprise. “Oh. Of course. Usual for you, FP?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She brought him back a cup of coffee and handed Cheryl a menu.

“Thank you,” said Cheryl.

“Sure thing.” The blonde tossed her hair over her shoulder and left.

“So, how long were you banging her?” Cheryl asked conversationally. Her eyes never left the menu.

FP choked on his coffee. “What?”

Cheryl looked at him over the menu. “That girl was looking at you like she knows what you look like naked.”

“Well, she doesn’t.”

“Huh.” Cheryl was still looking at the menu, her lips pursed.

“I’ve been with exactly two women in the last twenty years: my ex-wife and you. That’s it.”

“When the doctor comes today, I want him to do a blood test for STD’s for both of us.”

FP raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? I don’t think Gladys was stepping out on me and you were a virgin when I popped your cherry.”

She tilted her head. “Before we ditch the condoms, which you said you wanted, I want to make sure there are no surprises. I’m not risking getting an STD. Gross.”

“I think it is silly to be worried about it, but if you want to, we can.”

“It’s not silly, it’s smart,” Cheryl said stiffly. “I have had exactly one sexual partner. How many have you had?”

FP laughed. “You really want a number?”

“Do you even know the number?” she asked, her tone sarcastic.

“Baby, I do believe you think I’m a slut.” FP laughed. “You’re a piece of work.”

“No, I have working eyeballs. You’re a seriously hot ass man and I’m under no illusions that you haven’t had women throwing themselves at you all your life.” She pointed at the waitress. “Like your friend Donna over there.”

“You’re jealous.” FP was amused as hell. This gorgeous girl was fucking crazy. He’d known that, but this was a new angle.

She shrugged. “You said you only wanted to be with me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let some bitch eyefuck you when I’m sitting right here.”

“She can look all she wants,” said FP. “Cherry, just because a woman offers doesn’t mean I will take her up on it.”

Cheryl raised her eyebrows. “But she has offered, hasn’t she?”

“I get a lot of offers, honey. Don’t let it bother you. You’re the one I’ll be fucking later.”

The waitress came back, order pad in hand. “So, what can I get you, miss?” Her voice was cool, her face set.

“I’d like an order of pecan pancakes and a cup of coffee. Real maple syrup, Blossom if you have it.”

Donna wrote down the order. She put her hand on FP’s shoulder. “I’ll have your breakfast right out for you, honey.”

“You’re a real nice girl, Donna, but if you don’t get your damn hand off my shoulder you’re going to be looking for another job.” FP’s voice was cold and clear. He looked up at the waitress.

She immediately moved her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

She nodded and walked away.

FP looked across the table. “You’ve got no reason to be jealous, Cherry. I don’t play these kinds of games. You’ll see.”

“I am jealous.” Cheryl frowned. “I’ve never been jealous before. It’s... annoying.”

FP leaned across the table towards her and crooked his finger. “Come here.”

She leaned forward and he kissed her, his hand closing on her braid. “You’re my baby girl and I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”

“I want you to myself,” she whispered. “I want someone who wants me and only me.”

He cupped her face and kissed her again. “That’s what you got.”

Soon, FP’s steak and eggs and Cheryl’s pancakes were on the table. The diner had seen better days, but the food was good and it was cheap.

“So, this is how you live?” asked Cheryl. “You crash at the bar, eat here?”

FP shrugged. “Yeah, I eat here most of the time. I’ve got a place. Jug was staying there a lot, while I was in jail. I suspect his girl is there with him a lot, too. I want to try to leave them alone.” He ate a big piece of his steak. “We’ll get a different place for the two of us.” He smirked at her. “With ninety k in my pocket, covering rent won’t be a problem.”

Cheryl frowned. “I don’t think that you’re going to like living with me.” She poured more syrup over her stack of pancakes.

“I’m sure I’ll like it fine.” FP took a bite of his toast. “I know how you grew up, Cheryl. I’m not expecting you to cook and clean and all that shit. That’s not what I want you for.”

“What do you want me for?”

“What’s between your legs, for starters. But there’s a whole lot going on in that head of yours, too. You’re smart as hell. I like that about you and I want to take advantage of it. I’m tired of keeping secrets and lying to everyone I care about. I’d like to be honest with you, as much as I can. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I want to be the one person you can show yourself to and I want to be that for you, too.”

Cheryl looked over at him. “I have a lot of secrets. If I show them to you, you might not want me anymore.”

“There’s nothing you can tell me that would make that happen.”

Cheryl’s eyes were wide and sad. “I’m not sure that’s true. I don’t trust you enough yet. I don’t know for sure.”

“I don’t trust you enough yet to tell you my deepest secrets, either. But I think I will. You need someone to talk to, babygirl. I think that whatever you’re keeping to yourself, that’s what’s killing you. I’ve been living in the shadows a very long time. There’s nothing so ugly that I can’t imagine it. I’ve seen hell on earth. You can’t disgust me or shock me. The only thing you could ever do to push me away would be to betray me.”

Cheryl shook her head. “You’re the only person in this world that makes me feel safe. I wouldn’t destroy that.”

“I know.” FP sipped his coffee. “I can feel it. I don’t know why, but I do.”

After they finished up breakfast, FP tossed some cash on the table. He carried Cheryl back up the street to the maple syrup warehouse. FP rang the bell out front and a tired looking blonde answered it.

“FP. It was good to hear from you.”

“Wilma.” He smiled at her. “It’s been a long time.”

“You’re looking good these days.”

“Thanks. You know, I still think about Casey all the time. He was a good guy; one of the best.”

“I don’t blame the Serpents for what happened. He was reckless.” She tilted her head. “So you’re here to see the apartment?”

“Like I said on the phone, I’m looking for a place for the two of us,” said FP. “Wilma, this is my girl Cherry. Cherry, this is Wilma.”

Wilma looked Cheryl up and down. “The apartment is nothing fancy. It won’t be classy enough for a North Side piece like you.”

Cheryl smiled. “I’m settling in on the South Side. I need a change.”

“What’s the matter with your legs?” asked Wilma.

“Mind your own business and show us the place, Wilma,” said FP.

Wilma led the way down a wide hallway to a freight elevator. They took the elevator up and it opened onto a huge space, the length of the entire warehouse. It had been minimally outfitted as a living space. There was an entire wall of windows, with a view across the South Side and down towards the river.

The ceiling was very high and the wooden rafters glowed in the morning sunlight. The walls were exposed brick and the floors wide planks of aged wood. In the middle of the living space there was a futon sofa and a black coffee table. FP placed Cheryl on the sofa and pulled off her blanket, setting it aside. She looked up at the ceiling. “I like it. I can breathe in here.” She turned and smiled at FP. “I like it a lot. I like the light and the open space.”

It was the biggest place that FP could think of, it was very close to the bar, and Wilma needed the cash. If Cheryl liked it, the decision was made.

“The last tenant left some furniture behind,” said Wilma. “If you don’t want it, I can take it out.”

“Leave it,” said Cheryl. “It’ll give us something to start with.” She looked around, her brow furrowed. “Can I paint the walls, hang things up?”

“You can do whatever you want to the place as long as you fix the holes and paint it back when you move out,” said Wilma.

Cheryl nodded. She turned to FP and raised her arms. “Can you show me the kitchen and the bathroom?”

He picked her up and showed her the rest of the place. There was a full kitchen with steel appliances and white subway tile and a large bathroom with a shower stall and a bathtub. A bedroom area had been set up in the far corner. It was essentially just a wooden platform that elevated the space, with folding screens of wood and white fabric the only privacy between it and the rest of the loft. There was no bed, but there were bedside tables, a silver standing lamp and a very weird abstract sculpture carved of some white stone.

“Do you like it?” FP asked. “I know it’s nothing like what you are used to.”

Cheryl kissed his chin. “It’s a blank canvas. Can I do what I want with it?”

“I don’t care what it looks like.”

“I’d like to make it beautiful, just for us.” She looked excited. There was a smile on her face and a light in her eyes that made him feel good. He hadn’t even planned on this being something that made her happy. It was such a simple thing.

FP walked back out to the main living area, set Cheryl down on the futon and turned to Wilma. “We’ll take it. I’ll pay cash. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“I want to install a security system. Can I have someone come by later today?”

She nodded and handed him a set of keys. “Whatever you want to do is fine, FP. The place is yours.”

He smiled at her. “You need anything, come by the bar and let me know. Serpents take care of their own, you know that.”

She patted his shoulder and left them alone in the loft.

Cheryl was sitting on the futon, looking over at him. “Serpents take care of their own?”

He sat down next to her and took her hand. “That’s right.”

“You’re going to take care of me, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

She kissed his cheek. “I want to take care of you, too.”

“Nobody’s wanted to take care of me for a very long time.” He ran his fingers down her bare leg. She had long, long legs and a very short little skirt.

“Then you need me.” She put her hand on his chin and turned his face towards hers. "You need me, daddy."

He looked into her eyes. “I do need you, baby.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

This beautiful, sweet, broken girl was the best damn thing that had ever happened to FP in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me some comments or kudos if you enjoyed the update.


	4. Temptation Waits

_I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more_

_And there's so much at stake_

_I can't afford to waste_

_I've never needed anybody like this before_

_-Garbage_

 

What had started off as a couple of kisses on the couch turned into much more. Cheryl could not get enough of FP’s hands on her body. He sparked fire in her everywhere he touched. Even a sweet, gentle kiss quickly flared into passion.

FP was just as hot for her as she was for him. He broke apart their kiss to pull her shirt off and shove her skirt up around her thighs. Cheryl moaned as he sucked her nipple into his mouth and pushed her underwear aside, slipping his fingers inside her.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” he whispered. He moved his mouth to her other nipple, licking her with long, light strokes and then biting her. His fingers moved between her legs, filling her in just the right way.

Cheryl clung to his shoulders, incredibly aroused. “Please. That feels so good. Oh, daddy.”

He took a deep, ragged breath and moved his mouth to her neck. He licked and bit her more intensely as his fingers moved inside her, harder and harder. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“I want you; I want you so much. More. Please, more.”

He added one more finger and increased the rhythm. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you. Look at me.”

Cheryl opened her eyes and looked up at him. She was so close, on the brink of orgasm, and she whimpered. “Please.”

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.” His eyes shone as he looked down at her. “I can’t wait to get you in bed again. I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby girl.”

God, he wanted her so much. She could see it in the way he breathed, the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. He was inside her body, in control of her body. It was everything she needed.

She came, explosively. Her body was shuddering. He kissed her hard as she lost control, his hand twisting in her hair.

As soon as she recovered, he unbuckled his jeans and slid down his underwear. His erection was hard and thick. He put his hands around her waist and pulled her towards his lap. “Suck me.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and moved her face towards his cock. “I’m so hard. I need you now.”

Cheryl watched him as she took him into her mouth. He was close to the edge already. His eyes were closed, one of his hands holding her braid in a fist. She relaxed her throat and took him deep, as deep as she could. It didn’t take long before he was thrusting into her mouth, panting hard.

“I love your mouth on me, Cherry. Just like that.” She sucked as hard as she could and she could taste the pre-cum on her tongue. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop now.” His hands tightened in her hair as he thrust into her mouth, groaning as he came.

Cheryl sat up and FP pulled her close, kissing her neck. “Oh, sweet girl. The things you do to me.” He held her tight, showering her with kisses on her throat, her jaw.

A chime sounded from FP’s phone. “Fuck.” He pulled away from her, checked his phone and stood up, putting his clothes to rights. “We need to head back to the bar now. The doc will be there to meet us in a few minutes.”

Cheryl adjusted her clothes and FP wrapped her in the blanket and picked her up. He walked across the loft and pushed the button for the elevator. “I’ll have my guys move over the bed from the bar so we have somewhere to sleep tonight. Is there anything else you need for tonight, to be comfortable here? We’ll have to deal with the bigger stuff tomorrow.”

“All I need is you and the pain pills for my stupid feet.” She kissed his neck. “Plus a large box of condoms.”

“You really like fucking me, don’t you?” FP smiled widely.

“I’d say that’s mutual, wouldn’t you?”

FP looked at her with heat in his eyes and she felt a flash of lust. “Definitely mutual.” He licked the side of her neck, making her shiver.

When the doors opened, he carried her into the elevator. Back on the street, FP walked down the sidewalk towards the Whyte Whyrm. “So, were you serious about that blood test thing?” he asked.

“Absolutely. I’m not interested in getting some gross STD.”

“We are in total agreement on that, Cherry.” He smiled down at her. “I want you to talk to the doc about a couple of other things, too. You said you haven’t slept well since your brother died?”

“No. But I don’t think the doctor is going to be able to fix that.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask him. Jacobs knows his stuff and he’s seen some shit in his life. If he can help you, he will. Whatever’s going on in your head that makes you want to die, maybe we can fix it. Maybe between the three of us, we can figure out how.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She looked up at him. “Right now, I have two things that make me look forward to tomorrow. That’s two more things than I had yesterday. It is a start.”

“What are your two things, baby?” FP pulled up the corner of the blanket, tucking it more firmly around her shoulder.

“One is being with you. The other is turning that loft into something beautiful.”

“You can do whatever you want to the place,” said FP. “You’re the one with the cash, after all. You get to call the shots.”

“The money is yours,” said Cheryl. “I gave it to you.”

FP shook his head. “Things are different now. Never let anyone hold all the cards, baby girl. Especially not someone you’re sleeping with.”

“You’ve got some major trust issues.”

“I’ve got good reason to.” He kissed her forehead. “You’ve got some major daddy issues. Neither one of us is a saint, that’s for damn sure.”

FP carried her through the front door of the Whyte Whyrm. There was a petite blonde woman around FP's age behind the bar, wearing a Serpents jacket. “Your phone must be off. I’ve had an ass load of people calling for you.”

“They can talk to me at noon, Kasey,” said FP. “I’m unavailable right now.”

“You can’t be unavailable,” said the bartender. “I’m looking right at you.”

“I’m here.” FP climbed up the stairs. “But I’m not available.”

“You’re going soft, FP,” said the bartender.

FP stopped halfway up the stairs and turned around. “When I come down in an hour, I’ll show you how fucking soft I am.”

“I was just messing with you, boss.”

“That’s a real stupid thing to do, Kasey.” FP’s voice was cold and clipped.

FP carried Cheryl into his office, past the desk and into the bedroom area. He set her down on the bed. “You need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m fine for now.”

He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. Cheryl curled against his chest and he played with her braid. “So, you really like the apartment?”

“I do,” said Cheryl.

“I know it is not what you are used to, but it is a big step up from this room,” said FP.

“Definitely. I love the open feel and the light in the loft. I think the space is perfect for a mid-century modern kind of style. The first thing I want to do is plunk down an Eames chair right in front of the windows, in that far corner where you can see straight down to the river.”

“What the hell is an Eames chair?” FP asked. His thumb rubbed against the back of her neck, moving in slow circles.

“It’s a chair made of molded plywood with leather cushions,” Cheryl explained. “It’s one of the iconic pieces of mid-century modern design from the 1950s. It has classic, curved lines; very clean. The chair has metal casters on the bottom and a matching ottoman. It would be great for me right now, to put my feet up.”

“How do you spell that name, Eames?” asked FP.

“E-A-M-E-S,” spelled Cheryl. “That’s the last name of the designers.”

“I don’t know a damn thing about any of that.” FP shook his head. “But if you want to explain it to me, I’ll listen.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” Jason was the only person who had ever enjoyed hearing her prattle on and on about her personal passions. She’d stopped trying to get other people to listen to her. No one cared.

“Keep in mind, I spent months locked up with nothing but my own thoughts for company. Talking to a beautiful girl, especially one who is excited to make a home with me, that’s far from boring.” He smiled. “It’s a fucking dream come true, Cherry.”

Cheryl ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth. He kissed her so sweetly sometimes, so hungrily others. It was all so good. “I never thought I’d find someone who make me feel the way you do,” she said.

He kissed her forehead. “You know, it won’t always be this way. At the beginning, falling for each other, everything seems so easy. But things always get hard, get complicated. I have responsibilities that I can’t dodge. You have serious demons and you’ll have to confront them, sooner or later. Just promise you’ll keep talking to me, baby girl. It’s when lovers stop talking to each other that things get sour.”

“I want to keep what we have.” Cheryl brushed his hair away from his face, her fingers lingering on his jaw. “I want to make it even better. You want to build something real and so do I. You want to learn my secrets; well, I want to know yours, too.”

“I’ll tell you one of my secrets for every one you tell me,” said FP. “You have my word on it. I won’t tell a soul.”

Cheryl extended one hand towards him. ‘”You have my word, too. Anything between us stays with us.”

FP reached out as if to shake her hand, but instead tugged her into his lap. Cheryl laughed as he pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve never had a girl like you before.” FP bit her earlobe and Cheryl gasped.

“There are no other girls like me. I’m one of a kind,” she said.

“I think you are right about that.” FP ran his hand up her leg and she shivered.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. FP smoothed down the front of Cheryl’s skirt and adjusted the bulge in his jeans. “Jacobs?”

“It’s me, boss.”

“Come on in.” FP stood up and leaned against the wall.

The medic came in carrying a black leather bag. He was wearing a Serpents jacket and a pair of battered blue jeans. He turned to Cheryl. “How you feeling today, Cherry?”

“I was in a lot of pain when I woke up this morning. I felt fine after I took my pain pill.”

The doctor sat down next to her on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad was your pain?”

Cheryl closed her eyes and thought about it. “Seven?”

“Okay. I think you’re at the right dosage.”

“She doesn’t sleep very well,” said FP. “She has nightmares.”

“How often?” asked the doctor.

“Every night,” said Cheryl. “Sometimes I can’t go back to sleep afterwards.”

“How long has this been happening?” Jacobs asked.

“Since I was a little kid,” said Cheryl. “For a long time, I slept in the same bed as my brother, because he made me feel safe. I always slept better with him than when I was alone.” She licked her lips. “But then things changed between us, and then he died. The nightmares have been worse than ever since I lost him.”

“Have you ever been prescribed sleeping pills?” asked the doctor.

“Never,” said Cheryl. “My mother told me I just needed to pull it together. I was always the weak twin, the unstable one. Jason was my rock. Without him, I’m just falling apart more and more.”

Jacobs frowned. “I still recommend seeking treatment for your depression. Your grief is understandable, with all the losses you’ve had in your family. Talking to a professional about your grief and its effect on you would be the best thing.”

Cheryl shook her head. “I’m willing to talk to FP about what I’m feeling. He’s the only person I trust.”

“The boss is a lot of things, but he’s no therapist,” said Jacobs.

“If I need more help, I’ll let you know,” said Cheryl. “But right now, the answer is no. No to meds; no to therapy. Just no.”

“She said no, Jacobs. Drop it,” said FP.

Jacobs nodded. “Okay. Well, let’s deal with the physical side of what you are dealing with.”

The doctor unwrapped the bandages from her feet. When he started cleaning around the stitches, sharp pain lanced through her feet.

“FP,” Cheryl called his name and bit her lip. He sat down beside her and held her hand.

“Go ahead and squeeze my hand as hard as you need to, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re doing a great job. I know this hurts like hell.”

Soon, the doctor was finished and Cheryl’s feet were wrapped in fresh bandages. “Just stay off your feet for the next three weeks and you should be fine,” said Jacobs.

“There was another thing we needed,” said FP. “We both want to do a blood test for STDs.”

“That’s smart,” said Jacobs. He pulled out empty vials from his medical bag and a clean pair of gloves. “If everyone used condoms and got tested, the world would be a much healthier place.”

“We want to stop using condoms,” said Cheryl. “So before we do that, it is important to know it will be safe."

Jacobs raised his eyebrows. “Why do you want to stop using condoms? My impression is that your relationship is quite new.”

“I don’t like condoms,” FP said flatly.

“A lot of people don’t like them, but that’s not really the point.” Jacobs turned to Cheryl. “Do you know when I recommend a couple stop using condoms?”

“No, when?” asked Cheryl.

“When both partners are totally committed to being monogamous, and both have tested negative for STD’s, including HPV and herpes, not to mention HIV.”

“I haven’t had sex in two years and Cherry’s never slept with anyone else,” said FP. “So, once we get the results back, assuming we’re both clean, we’d like to ditch the condoms.”

“What are you going to do for birth control instead?” asked Jacobs.

“I want to get an IUD,” said Cheryl. “I’ve had enough surprises in my life for the time being and an IUD seems to be the best choice, at least for me.”

Jacobs nodded. “Well, you can go over to the clinic in Rockland and get that taken care of, pretty quickly and cheaply.”

“It seems pretty idiot proof,” said Cheryl. “One of my girlfriends has one and she’s never had any problems.”

“I can take you to the clinic if you want to make an appointment,” said FP.

“That’s what I’d like to do,” said Cheryl. “I think several years with no real worries about pregnancy is well worth it.”

“We’re in agreement on that, babe.”

Jacobs help up the vials for blood. “Okay, who wants to get poked first?”

He collected Cheryl’s blood first, then FP’s. He labeled each tube, packed up all the medical waste into a red plastic bag and sealed it, and prepared to leave. “Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

“I’d like a word with you in private,” asked Cheryl.

FP nodded. “I’ll be right outside.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Like I said, I’ve had nightmares all my life,” said Cheryl. “Is there anything that you could give me that would help with that? I know the nightmares are waking up  FP. I don’t want to wake him up every night.”

“Do you remember what happens in the nightmares?" asked Jacobs. "That might be something you could keep track of in a journal. If you ever decide to pursue therapy, having that record to look back on might be helpful.”

“I’ve always had nightmares, recurring ones,” said Cheryl. “In one I fall from a tall cliff. In another some kind of big wolf is chasing me. But since Jason died, most of my nightmares are about him. He’s angry that we are separated. He wants me to join him.” Cheryl bit her lip, remembering the anger and sadness she felt in her dreams.

“Do you believe that is true? Do you really think that your brother wants you to join him in death?”

Cheryl didn’t want to talk about it. She sat up straight and gave a wide insincere smile. “Well, thank you. I think the journal thing is a good idea.”

The doctor nodded. “It’s a start and that’s not nothing.”

“One last thing.” Cheryl swallowed. “How likely is it to get an STD from unprotected oral sex?”

“Giving or receiving?” the doctor asked.

“Giving,” asked Cheryl. “FP is the first person I’ve had sex with, but not the only person I had oral sex with.”

“The likelihood of STDs being transmitted by oral sex alone aren’t as great as through anal or vaginal sex, but there is a risk,” said Jacobs. “So, it’s a good thing that you’re getting tested. Like you said, you don’t want any surprises.”

Jacobs opened the door to leave. FP stood up from the couch in the office and shook the doctor's hand.

“Thanks, Jacobs. Don’t go too far,” FP said. “I called a club wide meeting for noon.”

“I’ll be where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be, just like always.” Jacobs left, closing the office door beside him.

FP sat down in the bed beside Cheryl. He took her hand in his. "Everything okay?"

“He's a good man, Jacobs. How long have you known him?” asked Cheryl.

“My whole life,” said FP. “He served in Vietnam with my dad.”

“Your father was in the army?”

“He did two tours over there,” said FP. “That was all in the past by the time I came along. I heard most of the stories from Mom; Dad never talked about it. I always thought he'd tell me someday, but he never did. They’re both long dead, now. I won't ever know the full story.”

“Do you miss your parents?” asked Cheryl.

FP blinked. “Well. It’s been a long time since I lost them. Sometimes something will make me remember one of them or the other. Especially here at the bar, I remember Senior. This was his place and sometimes it still feels like he will walk in any minute.”

“Your father was a Serpent?”

“My father founded the Serpents,” said FP. “He and his friends that made it home from Vietnam. They came back to a country that hated them, called them baby killers, and no jobs to be found. They all were just starting out, with wives and young families. That’s why Senior started the Serpents, to make some money and scrape together some power in this town.”

“You called your own father Senior?”

“That’s what everyone called him, except my mother. She called him his nickname from when they were growing up.” FP smiled wide. "She called him Flip. The man was six foot five and built like a linebacker. Flip.”

“Your family seems to like weird nicknames.”

“That’s true.” He tilted his head. “How about you? Any nicknames?”

“Not until now.” She looked over at him. “Cherry.”

“You’re my sweet Cherry baby.” He lifted her chin and kissed her. “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”

“We’re alone now.” She wanted him again. She wanted him constantly, a slow ache that never went away. When he wasn't touching her, she didn't feel whole.

He pulled away. “We won't be alone for long. I have to take care of business.” He hoisted her up in his arms. “Time for you to see what the Serpents are all about, baby girl. Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut. You’ll learn a lot that way.”

He carried her through the office and down the stairs. The bar was full of Serpents, and they all stopped and watched as he carried her down the stairs. He set her down at the bar on a metal bar stool.

“Cherry, this is my bartender, Kasey,” FP said. “Her husband, Danno, he was a good friend of mine. After he passed away, we kept her around because she can pour a good drink.” He glared at her. "She's got a smart mouth though and she forgets her place."

“You’re all heart,” said the bartender. She looked Cheryl up and down. “So what can I get you, kid? A Shirley Temple?”

“Don’t be a bitch,” said FP.

“Well, we don’t want any trouble with the law in this bar,” said Kasey, her voice acid. “Certainly not over serving some underage piece of tail that’s trying to become the next pass-around for the officers.”

“Kasey,” FP said, his voice dark. "Don't."

“I have a feeling we are not going to be friends,” said Cheryl crisply. “That’s fine, Kasey. But I won’t have you treating me like a piece of garbage. So, you need to watch your fucking mouth with me or I’ll slap you into next week.”

Kasey raised her eyebrows. “It takes a special kind of stupid to come into a Serpent bar and talk shit to a Serpent.”

“It takes a special kind of stupid to be a Serpent and trash talk the boss’ girlfriend, right in front of his face,” said Cheryl. "But you really are that stupid."

Kasey looked over at FP. “Bullshit. She’s lying.”

FP laughed. “No, she’s not. My girl Cherry, she called you on your shit.”

“He’s married,” Kasey said venomously. “You’re fucking a married man, you little whore.”

“Yeah, I’m done talking to you.” Cheryl reached back her arm and slapped the bartender across the face, hard.

There was a murmur in the bar behind her. Cheryl looked over her shoulder to see a large number of pissed off looking Serpents, most of them large and scary looking biker dudes.

“On that note, I’d better make the introductions,” said FP. He picked up Cheryl and carried her over to a pool table. He set her down on the edge and turned to face everyone. With two fingers in his mouth, he let out a large wolf whistle.

It was twelve o’clock sharp and the entire Serpents organization was gathered in the bar. The bar was crowded. No one said a word; they were all waiting for FP to speak. Cheryl knew about power; FP had it. Watching him in this mode, all business and deadly cold, was even more of a turn on. When he spoke, people obeyed.

“First off, I understand that you all did what needed to be done while I was locked up.” FP made eye contact with various men around the room. “My officers kept this club on track and it was thanks to all of your hard work. You all know I have high expectations and you all met them. There will be a little something more for all of you this week. Serpents value loyalty.”

There was a buzz of conversation that quickly halted when FP raised one hand. “On that note. You all took my son under your wing while I was in the clink. In fact, you made him feel so welcome that he wants to be part of the crew. To become a Serpent, he needs to earn his place the same way all of you did. As of this moment, he is officially a club prospect. He’s under DJ. If that’s your chain of command, feel free to get him to pitch in with the grunt work. I expect all of you to treat him the same way you would treat any other prospect. No special privileges.”

Cheryl spotted Jughead in the far corner of the room, between a pinball machine and an ancient Galaga video game. She saw the Serpents around him turn to congratulate him, slapping his back and shoulders. He was grinning ear to ear. Cheryl noticed that Jughead wasn’t wearing his hat. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him without it before.

FP turned back to the pool table. All the Serpents in the room were now looking at her. FP put his hand on Cheryl’s thigh.

“Boys, this is Cherry. She’s my old lady. Some of you who hang around the North Side may know her real name. I don’t want to hear any of you say it. You can all call her Cherry and nothing else. You all clear on that?”

An older man with grizzled grey hair stepped forward. “I’m not sure she can be your old lady when she looks half your age, boss.”

There were a few muffled laughs, but they were quickly stifled.

FP wasn’t laughing, not at all. “Cherry and I can do the math. Anyone other than Bone want to be a fucking comedian?”

Apparently not. Once again, the bar was deadly silent.

Jughead leaned against the pinball machine, arms crossed and brow furrowed. FP was going to have a very uncomfortable conversation with him soon, looked like. Cheryl hoped she wouldn’t have to be part of it. Honestly, things had gone so far with FP in such a short period of time that she wasn’t sure how to even explain what had happened. Most importantly, she had no desire to explain herself to anyone. Including FP’s son. She had never gotten along well with Jughead and this new...dynamic certainly wasn’t going to help.

“Duty assignments.” FP ran through everything that he expected to be handled in the coming week, from meeting a connection flying in from Key West down to ordering liquor for the bar. He clarified exactly who was reporting to whom, now that he was back. Everyone got their marching orders and then they mostly scattered.

Of course, Jughead matched right up to them. “What are you doing here?” Jughead stood in front of Cheryl and looked down at her feet. “What happened to you?”

“I have some stitches in my feet,” said Cheryl. “It’s not a big deal.”

“None of this makes sense.” Jughead looked at Cheryl, his eyebrows raised. “Did you seriously agree to be Dad’s old lady? Do you even get what that means, to the Serpents?”

“This isn’t the time or place for this conversation,” said FP. “We’ll talk about it another time in private.”

Jughead turned to his dad. “No, we need to talk about it now. Cheryl disappeared from the North Side. No one knows where she went. The police have her reported as a missing person. Betty said that everyone’s talking about it.”

Cheryl frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Sheriff Keller knows that I’m alive and well.”

“Well, as far as anyone knows, you disappeared and your mother was found shot to death,” said Jughead. “There are even rumors that you were the one that shot her.”

“That’s pretty weird considering that Sheriff Keller was there when my mother pulled the trigger,” said Cheryl. “She put the gun to her head and I called 911 for help. I was still on the phone with the dispatcher when the sheriff kicked the door in. As soon as she saw Keller's face, she pulled the trigger. There were two other deputies there that saw the whole thing. I went down to the station, answered all their questions and came here to the bar.”

“Why did you come here?” asked Jughead.

“To see your father.”

“Why?” Jughead looked completely dumbfounded.

“None of your fucking business,” Cheryl snapped. "It's personal, Jughead."

Jughead looked from FP to Cheryl and back again. “None of this makes any sense. Betty and I saw you at the police station right before they released Dad, Cheryl. Did you have something to do with that?”

“Keller let FP go because the charges were bogus,” said Cheryl. “You and Betty know that.”

“I told Keller the same thing months ago and it didn’t make a difference,” said Jughead. “What did you do to get Dad out of jail, Cheryl?”

“I did what I needed to do to get him out,” Cheryl replied.

FP turned to her, his brow furrowed. “What exactly did you do?”

“It’s not important,” said Cheryl.

“Why did you even care what happened to my father?” asked Jughead.

“It was the right thing to do. FP was innocent and he didn’t deserve to be punished for my family’s wrong doing,” said Cheryl. “My parents were criminals. FP didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jughead nodded. “Okay. Thank you. Whatever you did, it was greatly appreciated. But why are you here now, with Dad?”

“I’m joining the Serpents,” said Cheryl.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Jughead.

Cheryl shook her head. “I’m not joking. I’ve moved to the South Side and I’m staying here.”

FP looked at Cheryl, then FP, and then Cheryl. He scratched his head. “I don’t think cheerleading is a special skill the Serpents can really use.”

“Neither is being a weirdo or a smartass but you’re standing here wearing a Serpents jacket,” Cheryl snapped.

"Okay, that's enough out of both of you," said FP. "This conversation is done. Jug, if you have something to say to me, you can say it in private. Cherry, shut your mouth now."

“Okay, just one last question. You wanted to force me out of the gang, because it wasn't safe. But you’ll let Cheryl Blossom join the Serpents? What the hell, Dad?” said Jughead.

“My life is over,” said Cheryl. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

FP and Jughead both turned to her, identical expressions of concern on their faces. Their brows were furrowed in exactly the same way.

“Your life is far from over,” said FP. “I promise.”

Jughead rubbed his eye. “Look, Cheryl, if you really are staying here on the South Side, you need to let the people who care about you know where you are. Betty and Veronica have been worried sick for days.”

“Betty and Veronica could care less what happens to me,” said Cheryl.

“They do and I do and so does Archie,” argued Jughead. “We were the ones who pulled you out of the river, Cheryl! Of course we all care.”

“Then where were Betty and Veronica when I was in school and no one would talk to me? Where was Archie when I was living in a cheap hotel with my mother? Where were you when I was getting interrogated by the DEA and harassed by Sheriff Keller? Nowhere. None of you were there. None of you cared.”

“If you had reached out to any of us, we would have been there,” Jughead argued. “How were we supposed to know what was happening when you were totally out of the loop?”

“We were never friends,” said Cheryl. “Don’t try to make yourself feel better now. It’s just too late for all of that.”

FP folded his arms across his chest. “Jug, you need to go downstairs and meet up with Mac. You want to stay in the Serpents, you can help him. I’ll have a lot of  things you can help with on that side of things. I think it’s a good fit for you. It needs skill and brains and you have both.”

Jughead smiled. “Really?”

FP nodded. “Yeah. Head downstairs now. He’s expecting you. But don’t stay too long. I want you to get back to school this afternoon.”

Jughead gave Cheryl a frown and headed through the bar towards the basement door.

Cheryl turned to FP. “If everyone on the North Side thinks I’m missing, we need to clear that up right away. I’ll text Betty and have her meet me at Pop’s later today.”

“Why don’t you have her meet you down here on the South Side?” asked FP.

“If I meet Betty at Pop’s, everyone in the North Side will hear about it very quickly,” said Cheryl.

Later that afternoon, FP loaded Cheryl’s wheelchair into the back of her huge red convertible. He set Cheryl down in the passenger seat and they drove to the North Side. FP parked in the parking lot of Pop’s.

FP drummed his hands on the steering wheel and turned towards Cheryl. “Are you sure you want to do this?”  he asked. “There’s no going back from this, Cheryl. No matter what happens after today, what else you become in your life, this will stick with you. There will always be someone in Riverdale to whisper about how, a long time ago, you spread your legs for the leader of the Serpents. No one knows exactly what’s happened so far except you and me. You know I can keep a secret. If that’s what you want, no one will ever know what we were to each other.”

Cheryl shook her head. “I’m not ashamed of you.”

“You should be.” He raised his eyebrows. “Ask anyone on the North Side. They’ll tell you about what scum all of the Serpents are. We’re murderers, drug dealers, and thugs. We’re the plague that’s spreading through Riverdale, destroying everything clean and good and pure.”

“I don’t believe that. That’s not who you are and you wouldn’t be part of something like that.”

“It doesn’t matter what’s true in this town," said FP. "All that matters is what people think is true. Ask anyone and they'll tell you I'm bad to the bone, baby girl.”

“I believe in you,” said Cheryl. “I won’t apologize for wanting to be with you. You make me feel happy, FP. I never thought I would feel that way again. I'm not giving that up.”

He cupped his hand around her face and pulled her close. He kissed her gently on the forehead. “You make me happy too, Cherry.”

“Then take me inside. I don’t give a damn what anyone this town thinks. Not any more.”

FP picked Cheryl up in his arms and carried her over the threshold of the diner. As soon as they got inside the doors, Cheryl pulled his face to hers. By sunset, everyone in town had heard the rumor: Cheryl Blossom had kissed the leader of the Serpents, right in front of God and everybody down at Pop’s.


	5. Cherry Pie

_She's my cherry pie_  
_cool drink of water such a sweet surprise_  
_tastes so good make a grown man cry_  
_sweet cherry pie oh yeah_

_-Warrant_

 

Cheryl cupped FP's cheek and pulled his mouth to hers. Her kiss was long and thorough, and FP could hear hushed whispers before he broke the embrace.

“That wasn’t a great idea,” FP said quietly. Pop's diner was full of people; many were staring at them.

She smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “I think I got the message across. If I wanted subtle, I would have picked another guy.”

Betty waved from a booth at the far end of the diner. Archie Andrews was sitting next to her, his face grim. FP felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t been by to visit Fred in the hospital, much less check on his son, since he got out of jail.

FP tightened his grip on Cheryl and walked through the diner. They got strange looks from a lot of familiar faces. FP helped Cheryl into the booth and sat down next to her.

Betty raised her eyebrows. “Cheryl. Mr. Jones. It is...weird to see the two of you together. Jughead warned us, but it’s still very odd.”

“I thought meeting you here was the quickest way to get the gossip going that I am not dead,” Cheryl explained.

“Showing up here with Jughead's dad will send the rumor mill into overdrive, for sure,” said Betty. “I don’t mean to be rude, Cheryl, but what’s the story with the two of you?” She looked back and forth, as if in disbelief. “I mean, how did this happen?”

“We’re a couple, obviously,” said Cheryl. “Our relationship is our own business, of course, but neither of us are interested in hiding it."

Betty tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. Alice's daughter didn't fall far from the tree. She wanted answers, but FP wasn't in the mood for an interrogation.

“Come by our place for dinner tomorrow night, Betty. Bring Jughead with you,” said FP. “I’m sure you both have questions. Some we’ll answer, some we won’t. But clearing the air a bit in private is probably a good idea.”

Archie looked at Cheryl, then FP, then back again, his brow furrowed. “You’re living with him? He’s old enough to be your dad.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Cheryl. She tapped her long, red fingernails on the table. “Look, it was nice of you to come, Archie. I am fine, obviously.”

“We were really worried about you. I’m still very worried about you. I don’t understand what’s happened, how you wound up with Jughead’s dad, living in the South Side?” Archie’s voice was incredulous.

“I’m surprised. I honestly didn’t think you cared.” Cheryl’s voice was flat and matter of fact.

FP looked at the two of them. There was an undercurrent of something there. Cheryl’s eyes were cold and hard; Archie’s were angry and worried. There was a history there that he didn’t know- and didn’t like.

Betty was frowning, looking back and forth between Cheryl and Archie. Whatever the history was, she knew it. If Betty Cooper knew the story, Jughead did too. FP relaxed, knowing that whether or not Cheryl told him the score, he’d find out.

Fred’s son looked at Cheryl with troubled eyes. “Look, I know we hadn’t spoken with each other in a while. I’ve had a lot going on. It’s not an excuse, but of course we all care what happens to you.”

“I’m sorry about your dad, Archie,” said Cheryl. “But as I said to Jughead earlier, and I’m sure he repeated to you and Betty, we were never friends. You don’t have any obligation to be concerned about me.”

“We were all concerned when we saw these flyers all over town. I know I was worried. Very worried.” Archie pulled a folded, bright yellow paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Cheryl.

Cheryl read it quickly, her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand this. Sheriff Keller knows that I am not missing. This doesn’t make sense. When did these posters start going up?”

“They were posted all over town this morning,” said Archie.

Cheryl handed it to FP. It was a missing person flyer. There was large portrait of Cheryl in her cheerleading uniform, with all of her vital information underneath it. A reward was offered: five thousand dollars. There was a phone number across the bottom of the page.

“This isn’t from the police,” said FP. He took out his cell phone and dialed the number.

“You have reached the offices of the Maple Syrup Consortium of Rockland County,” said an automated voice. FP hung up and asked Cheryl if she'd heard of it.

Cheryl shrugged. “It was one of Daddy’s professional groups. He went to all their meetings. We hosted their annual gala at Thornhill.”

“Well, that’s the group that put up these flyers. It’s not the police at all,” said FP.

Cheryl sighed. “I have to call the family lawyer and ask if there’s litigation going on with them. Everyone under the sun is suing the family estate. They may want to find me just to subpoena me and depose me.”

The bell chimed at the door of Pop’s. Betty smiled and Archie frowned. FP turned around to see Hiram Lodge walking through the door:

Hiram walked straight over to them. His overly white teeth were blinding against his tan skin as he smiled. “Well, what a pleasant surprise. Two people that I wanted a word with, right at the same table.”

“Hello, Mr. Lodge,” said Betty politely.

Hiram turned to Cheryl. “Well, it is wonderful to see you again, Cheryl. I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl. I was quite close with your father, back in the day.”

“That doesn’t say much for your character, unfortunately,” said Cheryl. “My father wasn’t a very likeable person.”

Hiram laughed. “Well, I see you inherited Penelope’s dry wit. My condolences on your parents’ deaths.”

“Thank you,” said Cheryl stiffly.

“Which brings me to my question. I know that Thornhill burnt down in a tragic accident. I would like to purchase the property from you. I understand that you do not intend to rebuild. I would like to make a very generous offer for the land. Very generous.”

Cheryl looked up at Hiram. “There’s a lot of complicated legal proceedings going on regarding the estate at this time. I can’t even entertain any offer until all of that is resolved. Unfortunately, that could take a very long time.”

Hiram Lodge clucked his tongue. “Well, I believe that I can help move things along.”

“When all of the legal matters are resolved, I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”

Hiram Lodge patted Cheryl’s shoulder. “I think you are underestimating my influence, young lady. I am a man who can make things happen.”

Cheryl looked up at him. “Don’t touch me. I said that I would contact you, in time. I don’t appreciate being pushed around. Keep pushing and you definitely won’t get what you want.”

“I understand that your grandmother is in Shady Hills,” said Hiram. “Full time nursing care for a woman of her age, in her condition, must be very, very expensive. With all of your difficulties...”

“My grandmother is none of your business,” Cheryl snapped. “This conversation is over.”

Hiram handed Cheryl his business card. “When you need me, and you will need me, call me.”

Cheryl placed the card face down on the table.

FP looked over at Hiram. “I assume you want to talk business with me. You can come to my place or we can do it at yours. But not here.”

“I’ll have my people call your people.” Hiram gestured at FP’s arm across the back of the booth. “So, does Gladys know that you’ve developed a taste for barely legal girls?”

“Gladys is, as far as I know, fucking her way through the state of Ohio. I wish her all the best.”

Betty gave a little gasp that she quickly stifled.

Hiram looked down at Cheryl. “So. You’ve got a thing for older man, honey?”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” said Archie, his face red.

“You know, I already don’t like you, Archie Andrews.” Hiram looked over at him. “If you want to keep dating my daughter, I suggest you shut your mouth.”

“So, Hiram, which one of those front teeth is an implant?” asked FP. “I can’t remember which one I knocked out, when you talked shit about Allie at our junior prom.”

Hiram Lodge shot him a dark look and walked away.

“Did you really knock out one of his front teeth?” asked Betty.

“That was a long time ago,” said FP. “Ancient history. Doesn’t mean anything to anybody.” He turned towards Cheryl. “Don’t worry about Hiram Lodge. We’ll talk about all of it later.”

“No one knows about Grandma Rose. I don’t know how he found out,” said Cheryl. She folded the business card into smaller and smaller squares, frowning.

“Don’t be worried. We’ll figure it all out. If it’s important to you, I’ll make it right.” FP patted her thigh.

Betty leaned forward. “So, obviously you are alive and well. But Cheryl, the other rumor around town is that you killed your mother.”

Cheryl tilted her head. “Do you really think I shot her?”

Betty licked her lips. “I am sure that if you did, you had a very good reason. I know that your mother was not a... kind person. If you did shoot her, I am sure that it was because you had no choice. Self defense.”

Cheryl sighed. “My mother and I had a very complex relationship. My brother’s death was a huge blow; the truth about my father was devastating. It was too much strain for her. She took her own life, Betty. She pulled the trigger in front of Sheriff Keller and two of his deputies. I did not hurt my mother.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of doing that,” said Archie. “I know you, Cheryl. You’d never do anything like that.”

“I am perfectly capable of murder,” said Cheryl. “If Daddy hadn’t taken the coward’s way out and hung himself, I would have killed him myself. He destroyed my life; I lost everything that mattered to me. Worst of all, my sweet Jason will never know justice. I don’t think his spirit will ever rest.”

FP’s cell phone chimed. He received a text from his boy Chuck. He’d tracked down Joaquin DeSantos. The kid had been working in a bike shop out in Needles. California. The kid had run a long, long way to get away from the Serpents.

FP was looking forward to having a very long conversation with this particular Serpent when he got back into town. Joaquin had broken his word as a Serpent, but he’d saved FP from prison or even worse. It would be a fine line to walk, but FP knew exactly how to handle this kid.

Betty leaned across the table. “Cheryl, my parents would like to interview you for the _Register_. If you give your side of the story, explain the circumstances of your mother’s death, that might quell the rumors in town. Things have been on edge. If people see you spending time with the leader of the Serpents, that might make things even more volatile.”

Cheryl shook her head. “I don't know, Betty. I’ll ask my lawyer what he advises. With all the drama with the estate, I don’t want to complicate things by getting the press involved.”

“You can call me and tell me what you’d like to do," said Betty.

Cheryl picked up her cell phone and typed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Betty. Dinner at seven. I just sent you the address.”

Betty’s phone chimed. “Got it. Jug and I will see you tomorrow. Please think about what I said, about an interview for the paper.”

Cheryl turned to FP. “I’d like to go now.”

FP slid out of the booth and picked up Cheryl. “Archie, I’ll stop by the hospital tomorrow to visit Fred. You let me know if you need anything.”

"If you want to help someone, you should start with Jughead.” Archie looked up at FP, his eyes hard. "He's had a really terrible time, thanks to you."

“You’re right.” FP nodded. “See you around, kid.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Jones.” Betty smiled at FP and turned towards Archie. She put her hand on his shoulder and spoke to him in a low voice.

FP carried Cheryl out of the diner and settled her in the passenger seat of the convertible. “Next stop is the police station,” said FP. “I want a word with Sheriff Keller.”

“No, absolutely not,” said Cheryl.

FP turned the ignition and pulled the car out of the lot. “I didn’t ask your opinion, Cherry.”

She gave him a glare. “I went to a lot of trouble to get you out of jail. I don’t want you to give him an excuse to throw you back in!”

“He’s spreading rumors that you had something to do with your mother’s death,” said FP. “Aren’t you curious as to why?”

“I know why,” said Cheryl. “The more crazy people think I am, the less they will believe anything I say.”

“Why does Keller want to discredit you?” asked FP.

“Because I have dirt on him and he does not want it to get out,” said Cheryl.

“Did you blackmail him to get me out of jail?”

“If I tell you my secret, then you have to give me one in turn.”

FP nodded. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll return the favor.”

“I told him that I had video of conversations between him and my dad, about the heroin. I told him that I had proof that he was dirty and in the business up to his eyeballs.”

“Do you really have video?”

She smiled. “That’s another secret. You tell me yours first.”

“What secret of mine do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you punched Hiram Lodge.”

“He talked shit about someone I cared about. I wasn’t about to let that stand.”

“Who’s Allie?”

“Girl I used to know, a long time ago.”

“Did you love her?” asked Cheryl

“I thought I did, at the time. Looking back, I’m not sure anymore. Things went sour, real sour. It’s hard to remember what the sweet moments were really like, after all that.” He looked over at Cheryl. “So, what was between you and that boy?”

“What boy?”

“Fred’s son.”

“Archie? Absolutely nothing.”

“One of you wanted the other. Which one of you said no?” asked FP.

“You jealous?” Cheryl smiled, amused.

“I didn’t like the way that he was looking at you. I didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.”

“You are jealous!” She turned toward him. "That's idiotic."

“I’m not jealous.”

FP pulled the car over. They were in front of the old jewelry store, the front windows boarded up. He pulled her close to him and put his hand under her skirt.

“I’m not jealous because I’m the one who can touch you like this.” FP slid his fingers inside her and pumped.

Cheryl’s face flooded with color. “There are people driving by.”

“Yes, we’re out here in public where anyone can see.”

She looked over at him and bit her lip. “FP.”

“Tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop.”

She closed her eyes. “God, don’t stop.”

“You like it when I touch you. You like my big strong fingers inside your sweet little pussy. You want me. You wish it was my dick in you right now. You wish that I was fucking you, hard, right here in the car.”

Her breath hitched and she grabbed his wrist. “Daddy.”

He worked her harder. “Tell me you’re mine, baby girl. Tell me I’m the one that you want.”

“Just you,” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

She met his eyes. “Please. I need you. You’re the one that I want. I want you so bad.”

He increased the pace and she came, crying out. He flipped her skirt down and wiped one hand down his pants. He pulled back out into traffic and drove to the police station.

He parked the car and looked over at her. “I’m not scared of Keller.”

She bit her lip. “Please don’t confront him. I need you here with me, not back in jail.”

“I don’t want him talking shit around town about you.”

“None of it matters. I am crazy. I did burn my house down. I am having an affair with the leader of the Serpents. All of those things are true. I don’t care what people say. I just want you to be safe.” She put her hand on his arm. “Please.”

“It’s not in my nature to back down.”

“You did it for Jughead.” She looked in his eyes. “You were willing to go to prison for murder to save him.”

“Any father would have done the same thing.”

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “My father killed his own son, FP. Not all fathers are good.”

“Your father was a sick, twisted man.”

“What does that make me?” she asked. “If my father was sick and twisted, I must be too.”

FP shook his head. “That’s not true.” He took her hand in hers. "You are loyal and smart and caring. You're nothing like that bastard."

“If you really knew me, you would know that it’s true.” She was on the verge of tears, very upset. He needed to make this right.

“I’m going to know you better than anyone else ever has,” said FP.  “I’m going to learn all your secrets, baby. I’m going to help you see just how special you are. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to leave you, Cheryl, and I won't let anyone take me away from you.”

"Please take me home. Leave Keller alone. Just stay with me.”

He looked at her for a long moment. "Come here, baby girl." She scooted across the seat and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and drove out of the lot.

After a few quick stops, he took her home to their new apartment. They didn’t speak as FP carried her into the loft, each lost in their own thoughts.

The bed from the bar had been delivered. It was in place on the little platform and made up with bedding. The rest of Cheryl’s things and his own had also been brought over. There was now a wide oak double dresser on the wall, not far from the bed.

“Food or sex?” asked FP.

“Fuck me and then let’s order Chinese food.” Cheryl picked up the plastic bag from the drugstore and swung it in her fingers.

FP laughed and carried her to the bed. “Priorities.”

“I’m only a little hungry but very horny,” she elaborated.

As soon as they reached the bed, she tossed the bag onto the pillows. She pushed him onto his back and slid her hands under his shirt, over his abs. She pulled it off and licked him, from his waistband to his nipple. She bit his nipple, twisting it between her teeth.

He wanted her so badly. She turned him on so fiercely and fucking her with his hands earlier in the day only made him want her more intensely now.

She cupped him through his pants, unfastened the button and unzipped the fly. His cock popped out, hard and rigid. She put her hand around him and stroked him up and down.

“All for you,” he whispered. “Anytime you want me.”

She pulled his pants off and then bent between his legs. She sucked him, playing with his balls. He was already hard and really turned on; he didn’t want to come until later. He pulled her up to him and kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth. “Now.” He fumbled in the plastic bag and pulled out the box of condoms.

She pulled it out of his hands and ripped the box open. “You should have bought more. This is only twelve.” She handed him one and tossed the rest aside.

“That’ll do for today. I’ll buy more tomorrow.”

She laughed and pulled her shirt over her head.

“Come here. I need you. “ He rolled the condom over his erection. She threw her leg over his thigh and he pushed his cock inside her.

“Oh, I like that.” She threw her head back and sank down on him more. “I love the way your cock feels inside me.”

“I love fucking you.” Being inside her was so good. He was already so aroused by her. He struggled to pace himself, to make this last. “You’re so beautiful, baby girl.”

She cried out as he moved within her. It was wet and hot inside her and she was moving strongly, eager for him. “Take me, take me.” She rose up to meet him, their bodies slapping together as they both moaned.

“You got me. Baby, you got me.”

“I want you to want me,” she whispered. She clawed his shoulders with her long nails.

“God, baby. I’ve never wanted anyone this much before.”

“I need this. Don’t leave me, daddy.”

“Never. I’ve got you. I’ll give you everything you need.”

She fell apart in his arms, screaming his name.

He permitted himself one more thrust, then another. FP closed his eyes, shuddering with the force of his orgasm. This girl set him on fire. She made him feel vital in a way he’d never felt before.

She kissed him, hard. “God, that was so good. You’re so good to me.”

“We’re good together. You make me crazy.” He rolled the condom off and tied it closed, tossing it aside.

They lay in bed together. She kissed his cheek, then his nipple. “I like being with you, so much.”

He held her tight, his arms around her. “We’re good together. I feel damn lucky to have you here, sweetheart. Really damn lucky.”

She smiled at him and kissed him. “You better not be so sweet. People won’t think you’re scary if they knew how kind you are at heart.”

“A man can be kind to his woman and still be the boss.” He played with her hair. “Any of the Serpents would give their right nut to be here with you right now.”

“Well, they can’t have me.”

He kissed her shoulder. “No, they can’t. You belong to me.”

“You belong to me too.” She stroked his bicep. “I’m thinking you’ll get a big tattoo of my name, right there. Then all the waitresses and biker chicks and soccer moms that want a piece of your hot ass will know you are taken.”

“You think my ass is hot?”

She reached out with one hand and slapped his ass cheek. “Definitely.”

That led to tickling and giggling and more fucking. He wanted to make his mark on her. She wanted the same. By the time they were done, his neck was just as covered in bruises as hers.

“I think you have a possessive streak,” said FP. “You really do want to claim me, don’t you?”

“I don’t like to share,” said Cheryl. Her head was on his shoulder; her eyes were locked on his, looking sweet and serious.

“I’ll never ask you to,” said FP. “Never.”

“Do you wonder sometimes if this is real?” asked Cheryl. “After all, we were strangers a couple of days ago. Now you mean so much to me. You make me feel hope, that tomorrow will be better than today.”

“I feel that way too,” said FP. “We need each other.”

“I have to be careful with you,” said Cheryl. “I don’t want to get hurt.”

FP sighed and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “I told you to be careful of your feelings. Not to care for me too much, because my track record couldn’t suck worse.”

She nodded. “You warned me; you were very clear.”

“Well, forget all that shit.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m falling for you. Go ahead and fall, too. I’ll be there to catch you and I’ll never let you go.”

Cheryl kissed him, her hand clutching his. He felt warms tears falling, landing on his chest. He hoped they were tears of joy, of happiness. But there was sadness in her, and fear, too. He’d wipe her tears and hold her hand, no matter what happened next. It was too late to turn back now.


End file.
